The Netherworld Chronicles
by Persephone Oswald Oleesen
Summary: 100 Themes challenge. Multiple pairings inside. 6: Books. Laharl: Books are evil things. When you write books, a crazy blond with a tail will come to your home at night and torture you. If that doesn’t get you off, don’t write books. Case closed. T-M LxF
1. Stardust

100 Themes Challenge, Theme No. 1

.::Stardust::.

Pairing(s): GordonxJennifer

Genre(s): Romance

Rating: K+

Setting: About forty years after the events of Disgaea: Afternoon of Darkness

Description: How romantic is a shooting star? It may just be romantic enough to remind Jennifer why she fell in love with an idiot named Gordon.

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plotlines. The challenge belongs to Akikorosella on DA (go to my page for the link), and all characters belong to Nippon Ichi.

* * *

"Ahh, Gordon, it's great that we've finally gotten some time alone after all this time," A woman sighed, standing on the deck of a large spaceship. She was older, probably in her early sixties. She gazed wonderingly out the large bay window, watching as they traveled farther and farther away from the Earth. Her daughter Jane had actually been the one to push them to take a fortieth anniversary, claiming that being married to someone you love for that long is something that should be celebrated. To her chagrin, her husband had been less-than-eager to go.

"Well, why don't we have a nice quiet celebration at home? I'm sure your mother would love that," Gordon had said when their daughter had brought up an anniversary trip. The mother-in-question was in the kitchen adjacent to the room where they were, and her heart had sunk at his words. _Just another small party, hmm… _Jennifer had never been one to complain, but she wished Gordon would mix things up once in awhile. As happy as the last forty years had been for her, she admitted she had grown bored with Gordon's "quiet celebrations".

"Come on, Dad, you always say that," Jane protested, frustration evident in her voice. Unlike her sometimes dense father, she had always been hyper-aware of the feelings of those around her, even as a child. She knew, even though her mother had never openly admitted it, that Jennifer had wanted to take a trip for their next anniversary. "How do you know what Mom wants? Maybe you should ask her for a change!"

"Oh! Umm… Well…" In the kitchen, spreading icing on a cake in preparation for another "quiet celebration", Jennifer couldn't help but smile when Gordon called, "Hey, sweetie? What do you want to do for our anniversary?" She knew Gordon wouldn't ever intentionally hurt her. He probably didn't even think about it when he decided to hold their anniversaries at home.

Jennifer took her time answering, meticulously spreading the rest of the icing over the cake before wiping her hands and going into the living room. Jane stood in the center of the room with her hands on her hips while Gordon sat on the large cream-colored couch beside a discarded book he'd previously been reading. Now he watched her enter the room nervously, his brows knitting together. "Well, we could maybe take a trip to the Netherworld. We haven't been there in awhile, and I'd sure like to see Harlie and Flonne again."

"The Netherworld, sweetie? Wouldn't you rather go somewhere less… I don't know… Dark?" Gordon replied, his frown even more pronounced. He definitely hadn't forgotten the last time their family had decided to visit the Netherworld. Jane had only been about fifteen then, and Gordon hadn't appreciated it at all when Etna's vassal Hanako had decided to take her out for a night on the town. Jennifer had just been glad that Jane had come through unscathed, and while she was able to get Gordon to realize that their daughter had been in no real danger, she still suspected he blamed Etna for anything that could have happened to her.

They had finally compromised and had decided to travel to an alternate netherworld instead, a place called Veldime where demons and humans lived in (relative) peace. Jennifer stared at the Earth, nothing but a small blue dot in the distance now. Jane had seen them off at the space station with her new husband Matthew about forty-five minutes ago. Gordon had not been happy about Jane getting married, either, but that's a story for another time.

"Yes, it is, Jennifer dearest," The older ex-Defender of Earth replied, walking up behind her and wrapping one arm around her waist. "It feels good to be in a spaceship again. After we retired, I wasn't sure whether we would ever get the chance again…" His voice trailed off, and Jennifer turned to look into his saddened face. Retiring from his dream job had not been the first thing on Gordon's to-do list three years prior, but Jennifer had convinced him that it was the right thing to do. They were both getting older, she had told him, and in their age something could easily happen to them. She had said, "What would Jane do without us?" and he had agreed, albeit reluctantly. She had hated to pull the Jane card on him, but she knew he wouldn't have retired if she hadn't done something drastic.

She twisted herself around in his arms until she was facing him, both hands flat on his still-muscular chest. His jet black hair was now completely gray, and there were smile lines on his cheeks and forehead that hadn't been there yesterday, much less forty years ago on their wedding day. They had both aged so much, she thought, her eyes drifting from his face to her hands, which were wrinkled and sagging with the strain of fighting through armies of demons, angels and humans alike over the years. She folded her hands into gentle fists, an action that was almost as natural to her as breathing. The notion that she had killed thousands of living creatures had haunted her for years; only after they were married did Gordon wise up to the fact that fighting bothered her. After he found out, he had taken over many of the Defenders' battles, one time even enlisting the help of Harlie and his vassals before asking Jennifer to enter the brawl. The fact that he had gone to such lengths to keep her from having to fight touched her, and she thanked God every night for blessing her with him.

"You know, Jennifer, you are as beautiful as the day we met," Gordon murmured, interrupting her thoughts and making her look up into his face once again. He smiled and smoothed her blond-white hair back from her forehead. "Actually, you're even more so. I'm such a lucky man to have won you over, Jennifer. To this day I still don't know how I ever accomplished such a feat."

As she looked into his eyes, a shooting star passed by the window. It was very fleeting, but for that split second she could see the stardust reflected in his eyes. His light blue orbs danced with sparks of orange, yellow and white, and she was suddenly taken back to the days of their youth, when Thursday was still in working condition. The robot was welding on the side of their ship, which had been badly damaged during an assault on an enemy world. Jennifer herself was digging into the ship beside him, trying to reconnect a few fuses that had come apart in the attack. She had been working at the fuses for over an hour with little success and was getting frustrated, even going so far as to yell at Thursday when he attempted to help her.

Gordon was a distance away, frying burgers on a portable grill. While he was more than dense in the area of mechanics, he was a pretty good cook. He had noticed that Jennifer was having problems and, after fixing up the burger just how she liked it (extra mustard, no pickles), he'd brought it to her. Crouching down beside her, he patted her on the shoulder and said, in typical Gordon manner, "You can do it, Jennifer. I know you can."

She looked at him, then. The sparks from Thursday's welder were flashing in his irises, and at that moment she realized that for all of his bullheaded, stubborn ways, she loved him. Though she wouldn't admit it until long after they had befriended Laharl, Flonne and Etna, she loved him more than anything else. Looking into his eyes on the ship, many many years later, she noted with little surprise that she still loved him more than anything else in the world, except maybe their daughter. He was hers, forever and always, and nothing would change that.

Pecking him on the nose, she giggled lightly. "You know, Gordon, I think I'm in the mood for a burger."

* * *

And there you have it, my first fanfiction since returning from my hiatus. Please tell me what you think, because I need to know if I'm up for another round of .


	2. Power

100 Themes Challenge, Theme No. 2

.::Power::.

Pairing(s): LaharlxFlonne (heretofore known as Flaharl ^^)

Genre(s): Humor/Romance

Rating: T

Setting: Netherworld, Overlord's Castle, Laharl's bedroom XD Probably around 1000 years or so after the events of Disgaea: Afternoon of Darkness. A period where the three are much more physically (eherm) mature.

Description: A spicy little argument between the infamous Overlord Laharl and our favorite little fallen angel, Flonne And, for all you Etna fans out there, a little mischief can go a long way. We're talking millions of Hell here. Just read, you'll understand.

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plotlines. The challenge belongs to Akikorosella on DA (go to my page for the link), and all characters belong to Nippon Ichi.

* * *

"Y'know, you angels are pretty weak."

"W-wh-whaaaat?? We are not weak!! Celestians are a very powerful race!!"

"Suuuure. That's why I can defeat a whole horde of them with one Overlord's Wrath. Face it, they're weak."

"B-b-but what about Seraph Lamington? From what I heard, you barely survived the battle against him."

"Wh-who the hell told you that crap?!"

"Etna-san. She told me without her and your other vassals, you would have been beaten by the Seraph, hands down."

"Ugh, I'm gonna have to kick her ass for that… She lied. I wiped the floor with your Seraph."

"Sure you did. Heeheehee…"

"W-why are you laughing?! I told you my power almost killed that angel weakling. Shouldn't you be mad or something?"

"Oh, _Laharl_. Do you really think your physical strength alone won that battle?"

"Of course!!"

"You are completely wrong. What won that battle was not bodily power. It was the power of love!"

"That's ridiculous. Love had nothing to do with that fight! It was my Meteor Impact tossing those angels all over the room that won. That loony angel was trying to take one of my vassals away. I showed _him _who's boss."

"But why were you fighting, Laharl?"

"Huh? I told you—"

"No, that can't be it. Etna-san told me that after I was turned into a flower, you completely freaked out and cried all over the place. Then—"

"H-how dare she--!! I'm gonna—I didn't cry!! Damn it, I got pollen in my eye!! Your stupid petals threw pollen at me!!"

"Oh no, I wouldn't do that. Not to _you_, Laharl. Tee-hee!"

"Love had nothing to do with it! I didn't fight that battle for you, I did it for me!!"

"Admit it, Laharl! The power of love is greater than the power of any Overlord!"

"No!! That's not true, damn it! I could kick love's ass any day! Bring it on!!"

"Would you be willing to kick _my _ass, Laharl? Tee-hee…"

"Wh-what? H-hey… What are you doing?! G-get away from me!!"

"Laharl, tell me that love brought me back from the dead."

"N-no!!"

"Tell me you love me, Laharl."

"N-NO!!"

"Hmm… Then, I guess we're going to have to see who's kicking who's ass, then, aren't we? Hmmmhmhmhm… Haaaaahahahahaha!!!!"

"What? You can't steal my laugh like that!! I patented that laugh!! Hey, w-wait—No—Flonne!! AAAAAUUUUUUGHHHH!!!!"

_Later…_

"Prince!! Damn it, I'm not your secretary!! Stop having all your paperwork sent to my room, you stubborn-headed jackass!!" Etna slammed the doors to the throne room open, the consequential shockwaves making the castle quake in its lava moat. She tossed piles of wadded up paper onto the red carpet before her. "See?! Look at what you made me do!! Now that peace treaty between the Netherworld and Veldime will never be signed!! And it's your entire fault!!... Prince?" When Etna finally took a good look around the throne room, she found it completely empty. "What the…? Where the hell is that little brat…?" She looked behind every pillar and underneath every vase. She even searched the utility closet off of the throne room. Nothing. Walking toward the Prince's closed bedroom door, she began to hear voices, one soft and feathery, the other brash and grating. Well, it wasn't hard to distinguish _those _voices. Curious as to why the Prince and Flonne were in his bedroom with the door shut, she inched closer and pressed her ear against the cool stone.

"Ohhhhh…. Laharl, are you ready to admit that love can conquer any Overlord, even you?"

"Mmmmm…. I mean, NO! Of course not. Love is nothing but trouble!"

"Hmmhmmhmm... You just don't want to admit that this is nice, do you?"

"Hnnnn. _No_, that's not why! I just…"

"Tee-hee. I love you, Laharl…"

"Mmhmmm…."

At this point, Etna was already hurrying back to her room, giggling like crazy. If she could get some extra juicy shots tonight, she could sell them tomorrow morning for crazy amounts of Hell!! She was going to be rich!!

* * *

Wonder how _that _one turned out. Review, please!


	3. Dawn

100 Themes Challenge, Theme No. 3

.::Dawn::.

Pairing(s): None (Flaharl adhered to, if you squint)

Genre(s): Angst/Tragedy

Rating: T

Setting: Some time after one of the bad endings of Disgaea: Afternoon of Darkness (Flonne tragedy, maybe?). I've heard that during this ending, Laharl is seen walking through the Lunar Snowfields with a flower in hand, but I've never actually seen it, myself. Please, if I have something wrong, feel free to tell me.

Description: A warped outlook on Laharl after he kills Seraph Lamington and, in essence, Flonne.

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plotlines. The challenge belongs to Akikorosella on DA (go to my page for the link), and all characters belong to Nippon Ichi.

* * *

Walking.

That's all he ever does these days, it seems. Walk, rest, eat and repeat. There is no sleep involved; if anything, he is running on pure steam now. His right hand has been fisted for so long now it feels like it's stuck that way. Maybe it is. He watches his feet move, an almost robotic action. Left foot, right foot. Left foot, right foot. He speaks only minimally, and only when they stop to rest. And they only stop to rest at dawn.

"Almost there," he says, voice almost like it was five years prior. They are sitting on a large boulder, positioned so that they will be able to watch the first rays of light come up over the barren hills. He grins, folding one arm over his chest. His right is parallel to his body, his fist resting gently on the rock beside him. "I'll be able to kick that angel's ass soon enough."

The smirk then slides off of his face as he looks down to his right. He raises an eyebrow at the tiny flower fisted in his hand. "There won't be any talking, Flonne. Your Seraph ordered his goonies to attack the Netherworld. There's no other reason they'd be here." Silence. And then: "Do I need to remind you that he sent you to _assassinate _my old man? Would someone who really wanted peace between our worlds really do something like that?"

Another long stretch of silence. Then, he scoffed. "Whatever. I just can't wait to get there and get back home. I've got a kingdom to run, you know." He chuckled after a time. By now the first rays of sunlight were beginning to pierce through the nighttime fog. He shivered, frowned and shook his head. "No, I'm not cold! Dummy!! I'm fine. You're the one that's shivering." Suddenly he jerked away from the flower, holding it at arm's length. "Augh!! Wh-what are you doing?! N-No, you cannot have my cape!! Damn it, let go, Love Freak!!" He turned a piercing glare to his left, spitting, "Shut it, Etna!!"

After few moments of holding the flower as far as he could, he sighed and wrapped the end of his scarf around the flower, arm and all. "Whatever. Don't you dare start spouting any of your love shit, Flonne. I mean it this time."

And with that he stands, hops lightly off the boulder and continues his journey. He may say "Almost there", but the truth is he has no destination. He is stuck in limbo, body, soul, mind and heart trapped in an eternal loop in the past. Every morning he watches the sun rise with the flower. Every morning he says the same things. And after the dawn he walks, tormented by the fact that he doomed her to her death and damned himself by destroying the only being that could have saved them both from their eternal hells.

* * *

Okay, I know this one was somewhat confusing. Laharl obviously feels immense guilt after killing Seraph Lamington and ultimately killing Flonne, so he wanders the Lunar Snowfields with her (in flower form, of course), endlessly repeating a scene from their past. It occurred sometime during their journey to Celestia. They watched the sun rise together, and Flonne got cold, seeking warmth in Laharl's scarf. After a few moments of googly-eyes, he gave up and wrapped the end around her. This isn't actually a scene from the game or the anime, but it's one that I can see happening. Flaharl is such a dorkalicious pairing ^^. Please review!


	4. Water Lilies

100 Themes Challenge, Theme No. 4

.::Water Lilies::.

Pairing(s): N/A

Genre(s): Hurt/Comfort/Spiritual

Rating: T

Setting: Celestia. A few years after the events of Disgaea: Afternoon of Darkness.

Description: Flonne was affectionately called Lotus during her youth by her mother. The water lily is supposed to represent rebirth. So why does Ozonne feel like Flonne's rebirth as a fallen angel is a betrayal?

A/N: Sorry this one took so long. I was having trouble coming up with a scenario.

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plotlines. The challenge belongs to Akikorosella on DA (go to my page for the link), and all characters belong to Nippon Ichi.

* * *

When their parents found out, they reacted in standard airhead manner. "Well, as long as she's happy, I'm fine with it," their father, Terl, had stated, smiling widely.

Their mother, Erl, had responded with an even bigger grin. "Oh, my baby Lotus has finally blossomed! I was so afraid she'd never find what she wanted in Celestia, but now she's finally found a place where she belongs!" Streams of tears gushed from her eyes as she proclaimed, "I'm so happy!!"

Watching their reactions, the youngest daughter had trouble holding her lunch down. "What the hell are you saying?! A place where she belongs? She gave us up!! She traded us for those _demons_!! How can you be happy about this?!"

"Ozonne, you know we do not curse in this house," Terl scolded, wagging a slender finger in her face. Ozonne batted it away, sighing heavily. At this, she was tackled by a sobbing Terl.

"Ack! Dad, get off—"

"Ahhhh, my baby Tadpole doesn't love me anymore!! Nnnoooooooo!!" He released Ozonne and instead hid behind Erl. "My dearest, Tadpole won't let me tease her anymore! She's t-too grown up for her father! Wahhhhh!!!!"

Erl patted him on his head, cooing, "I know, Terl. Rearing children is the hardest thing I've ever had to do, too!" And then they were both sobbing, sitting on the floor wailing.

As bad as she felt for making her parents cry, Ozonne was still angry, and she stomped out of their apartment and down the street. Some angels floated by her with a smile and a greeting; others, wary of her demonic expression, crossed the street to continue their walks. Ozonne didn't care; her house had become stifling, and she just needed to get away. Furious thoughts ran through her mind, the most prominent one being irritation at her nickname. _Flonne was nicknamed Lotus as a baby. As demeaning as that sounds, it's still better than mine! What in their oxygen-deprived minds made them nickname me Tadpole?! It's so unfair!!_

She stopped, sensing that she had gone far enough. She sat down, and sure enough she was in the place where she and her sister had spent most of their childhood days together. She sat at the very edge of a pond in the community park not two blocks from their apartment. Now that Flonne was gone, Ozonne came here whenever she felt lonely and/or needed to get away from their parents. As much as she loved them both, she had to admit they were quite annoying to live with. The terrible part was she was only 1200 years old, and the age all angel trainees were required to be was 1400. Of course, she had never wanted to be an angel, but at least it would give her something else to do. With her big sister gone, Celestia was a big bore for her.

She grimaced, anger flaring up again. "Why couldn't that stupid flower-head stay where she belonged? She would have been a great angel; she was airheaded enough to be one." The young girl ignored the stinging in her eyes as she watched a frog leap off of a lily pad, spooked by her proximity. "Besides, those damned demons didn't need her. Why couldn't the Seraph have sent someone else?"

For a while, she watched the ripples in the water and watched the fish swim neatly in-between the cattails in the water. The longer she watched, the more her eyes burned. She told herself to grow up and tried to look away from the water, but not before she caught sight of a water lily. "Damn you, Flonne! I was there for you!" She hissed, her voice getting louder and louder as she spoke, ignoring the stares she knew she was getting from other angels in the park around her. "I was there for you and at the first opportunity you got you jumped ship and left me!! Where are you now, huh?! What kind of big sister are you, running away when I need you?! Damn it!!"

Lightning quick, she picked up a stone and hurled it at the flower. It hit the lotus straight on, but that didn't make her feel any better. After watching a few pink petals from the now wrecked lily drift in the wake of the stone, she buried her face in her hands and let out a sob. Her mind screamed at her _You're weak! You're weak and you'll never make it on your own!_

A few angels came over to see if she was alright; she drove them off with a wave of the hand and a muffled, "Go away!" A few of them went away quietly; others mumbled complaints under their breath as they went. Ozonne didn't care; she was too wrapped up in her turmoil to be bothered with what other people thought of her. That's why when her sister was around she'd always felt like she was needed. Flonne was the regular space cadet of her class; she was the one during recess who would sit and talk to the ladybugs instead of playing with the other children. When the bullies in her class were ready to show off their brute strength, scrawny little Flonne was always the target. And even scrawnier, even younger Ozonne was the one who had to drive them back. Her class would let out for recess after Flonne's, and all she could think about was coming to her sister's rescue. When she burst out of the door to the playground and found her sister still harmlessly conversing with insects, Ozonne would relax and make merry with her classmates.

But when she launched herself through the exit of the academy and saw those two or sometimes three bulky angel-wannabes pushing her sister around, Ozonne went straight to work. Flonne would be on the ground, cowering below the tallest bully when Ozonne arrived, and she grabbed him by the cuff of his shirt and pulled him backwards. The boy, taken off-guard, would most likely stumble and sometimes even fall. The two with him would glance fearfully at her and start to run, thinking they had been caught by one of their teachers. And then they would relax, seeing the extremely short underclassman standing there, hands on hips, green hate-filled glare directed toward them. They would laugh, and she would darken her stare. When she wanted to, Ozonne could look pretty scary.

"Ozonne!" Flonne would exclaim, looking unabashedly shocked and weak sitting on the ground, sometimes with a smudge of dirt across her face or a bruise welling up on her cheek. If she was hurt badly, it would make Ozonne even angrier. Sometimes the younger girl would stomp on the first bully's face, if he fell over.

"Would you bastards leave my sister alone already?!" She would yell, sometimes attracting other students' attention. "What the hell did she ever do to you?!"

Sometimes, her blatant cursing was enough to drive the bullies off.

And sometimes, she had to hit them. Which was okay with her, too.

Now, Ozonne may be small, but her fists packed a punch. Since she knew from an early age that she wanted to be a martial artist when she was older, she had spent dozens of years training in secret, out of her parents' knowledge. This may not make her very strong to an adult angel, but to weakling pretenders like Flonne's class bullies she was terribly strong. And she would usually hurt each of them as much if not more than they'd hurt Flonne before their professors reached them. Usually she was suspended for three days, sometimes a week. But Ozonne knew she would never be permanently removed from class, because angels are supposed to forgive everybody and everything that moves. One time she came close to being thrown out, and that was when she beat up one of _her _classmates for calling her butch. Sure, she was a little muscly for a 1000 year-old angel, but not butch!

Now, thinking about Flonne and looking at the broken remains of the lotus, Ozonne smiled slightly. The frog from before was perched on the edge of the lily pad closest to the flower, and the position reminded her of herself and Flonne. A wizened (not butch) old frog and a wilted, yet still beautiful lotus. Perhaps their parents were right to name them what they did after all.

* * *

Please, PLEASE review. ^^


	5. Pregnancy

100 Themes Challenge, Theme No. 5

.::Pregnancy::.

Pairing(s): Flaharl

Genre(s): Humor

Rating: T

Setting: About 1200 years after the events of Disgaea: Afternoon of Darkness

Description: Special Report: Hassle in the Castle! Join Ace reporter Usagi and her bumbling camerawoman Pleinair (no knock against Pleinair; I love her ^^) as they sneak inside the castle for a closer look at the quickly unfolding Netherworld drama! What will happen? Stay tuned to find out!!

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plotlines. The challenge belongs to Akikorosella on DA (go to my page for the link), and all characters belong to Nippon Ichi.

* * *

_The Netherworld. A place where dead trees grow in abundance. A place where demons live in little to no harmony. And a place where order and tranquility—_

"HOW COULD YOU NOT KNOW ABOUT CONDOMS?!"

—_Is very, very rare. Let's go to the Overlord's castle, where the latest outburst from our young hero, the tyrannical, 2500-year-old megalomaniac Laharl is taking place. After dodging past the guards at the gate, I, ace reporter Usagi, and my bumbling camerawoman Pleinair have infiltrated the castle and are now in the throne room. Here, we see him and his vassals congregating. As you know, the throne room of the Overlord's castle is the battleground for many of Laharl's tumultuous tantrums. He is currently—_

"Miss Usagi? What are you talking about? The Prince is definitely not a hero. He's a spoiled, egotistical child who needs his nose broken!"

"Umm… Miss Etna, do you mind? I'm narrating here…"

"Huh? Oh, sorry. Hehe. I'll just let you get back to that."

"Good. Now, where were we… Oh, yeah."

_He is currently staring down our heroine, 2700-year-old fallen angel Flonne who, despite her obvious height advantage over the Overlord is looking smaller by the moment. Let's zoom in on the action, shall we?_

"Please, Laharl, not in front of the cameras," _Flonne is saying, glancing nervously over at the lens aimed directly at her face by Pleinair. With a terrified squeak she turns her gaze back to Laharl, face a bright crimson._

"Who gives a shit about the cameras?! You mean to tell me that you let me… do _that _to you and d-didn't use a condom?!" _The Overlord is inconsolable, stomping around in circles and pulling out his hair. For all his nonchalance, he never shoots the camera a glance._

"Well, actually, Prince, the guy is supposed to put the condom on, not the girl," _right-hand vassal to the Overlord Etna pipes up from her place at the sidelines. She lounges in a beach chair, munching popcorn with the prinnies, seemingly entertained by this drama._

_As Pleinair signals the start of a commercial break, I step in front of the camera. _"This is your lovely reporter Usagi with a special news flash! Overlord Laharl: Honorable ruler or uneducated virgin? We'll be back after the break!" _I say, putting on my best smile for the camera._

_Behind me, Flonne squeaks again and Laharl roars, _"Hey!! Wh-what are you saying?! Etna! Get them the hell out of my castle!!"

_Etna doesn't move, only stretches, feline-like, in her lounging chair. With a few vulgarities, the Overlord turns back to Flonne._

"Flonne, I thought you said the Seraph taught you everything you needed to know in these situations?!"

_Flonne, fearfully glancing between the Overlord and the camera, fidgets._

"_Flonne_!"

"N-Not everything!! He just told me that I should wait until I was married." _Putting on a thoughtful expression, she continues. _"Then again, I didn't do that, either. Oh, I'm so sorry, Master Lamington…"

"And we're back!" _I call out, raising my arms as a spotlight illuminates my form._ "Hello, everyone. I am your gorgeous reporter Usagi with more breaking news. It seems that Fallen Angel Flonne and Overlord Laharl are not married! What do the viewers think?! Give us your reactions at www .rqnethernews/comments. com! Let the people's voice be heard! Now, stay tuned to Channel 478 to watch this comedy unfold live, right before your very eyes! Or, is it a tragedy? Only time shall tell!!"

"D-damn it!!" _The Overlord curses, pacing around the room. Pleinair zooms in on his brow, where beads of sweat are forming at a rapid pace. He stops suddenly, and faces Flonne. _"So, what happens now?" _Flonne returns a blank look. Apparently, our favorite fallen angel is also unprepared when it comes right down to it. Sighing dejectedly, he turns instead to Etna. She puts on a mischievous smile and sits forward in her chair._

"Well, first you have to get through the pregnancy stage, which lasts about nine months. During this time, Flonne will develop cravings for odd foods and will become emotionally unstable. Then comes the labor." _Her smile widens as Laharl pales. _"She'll cry, scream and curse your very name to the pits of hell. Believe me; you'll look at her in a different way after this stage."

_Laharl glances warily at Flonne, who waves her arms frantically in front of her. _"I would _never _curse your name, Laharl!" _Nonetheless, Laharl scoots a few paces away from her._

"And then," _Etna continues, smile as devious as possible, _"after the baby is born comes the hard part. Staying up night after night, caring for a crying, screaming kid. Never getting any sleep, changing diapers over and over, and the best part; breastfeeding."

_The anxiety in the room hits an all-time high. Flonne begins wailing, panicked, as she holds her head in her hands. The Overlord goes to comfort her, then pulls at his hair, then shouts vulgarities at Etna, who is now doubled over in her chair, laughing. I gently turn the camera toward my face, smiling once again. _"So, as you all can see, pandemonium has hit the Overlord's castle. Will the Overlord marry his lowest vassal, or will he allow her to have their child while unwed? Will their relationship survive the pregnancy, or will the Overlord run out on his wife-to-be? All your questions will be answered tonight on Rosenqueen NetherNews, channel 478! Tune in or die!!"

"Damn it, Etna, get the stupid cameras out of here!!"

"Fine, fine, Prince. Geez, why don't you do it yourself? Lazy ass…"

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Sorry about the unecessary spaces in the "website". I had to do that or else Fanfiction . net (another example) would have deleted it XP. Please review!!


	6. Books

100 Themes Challenge, Theme No. 6

.::Books::.

Pairing(s): Flaharl

Genre(s): Romance

Rating: T-M ('cuz Flaharl can't keep their hands to themselves XD)

Setting: About 1000 years after the events of Disgaea: Afternoon of Darkness. You'll find that I rather enjoy writing Disgaea in this time frame, because I associate the characters' ages (ex. 1313) to their appearances and mental stage. For example, in this story Laharl would be about 2300 years old, so in my theory he'd look and act like a twenty-three-year old (a.k.a. a teen-adult who only thinks about sex XD). I hope this is as entertaining for you as it is for me.

Description: Laharl: Books are evil things. When you write books, a crazy chick with a tail will come to your home at night and torture you. If that doesn't get you off, don't write books. Case closed.

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plotlines. The challenge belongs to Akikorosella on DA (go to my page for the link), and all characters belong to Nippon Ichi.

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Footsteps coming down the hall towards my bedroom alerted me to her presence before she even called my name.

"Laharl? Are you in here?"

I remained quiet as she pushed open the stone doors. I could feel her gaze on me as she moved into the room, the doors closing with a soft "whump" behind her. I kept my eyes trained on my book, but with her in the room I couldn't focus on the words, so instead I moved my eyes from left to right on the page, pretending to be engrossed.

"Hello, Laharl. You missed lunch, so I brought you some." I felt the tiny tremors in the stone floor as she set a tray down beside my coffin. She sat down beside my casket and looked down at me.

"Mhmm. Thanks."

"Ooooh! Laharl, you're reading? I didn't know you liked books." I could feel the energy in her smile radiating at me full-force, even through the thick book I held. Just like every other time she directed that smile towards me, I began to sweat.

Acting nonchalant, I sat up, leaning my back against the head of the coffin. "Yeah, well, don't read too much into this, okay?"

"Why?" She shifted onto her knees and crawled around to the head of the casket, straining around my head to get a better look. I kept my breath steady as she leaned closer. This got considerably more difficult when she rested her head on my shoulder and sighed, her breath tickling my neck and making my stomach do flip-flops. "'Laharl: The Life and History of the Greatest Overlord in the Universe'. I should have known."

"Yeah, so what? It's a good book," I retorted, shifting my shoulder, half-heartedly trying to throw her off. To my horror, she leaned even farther over me, her upper body pressed to the head of the coffin and, inherently, to my exposed upper back, shoulders and head. I held my breath as she pointed to my book.

"But look! 'Chapter Twelve: Laharl's Conquer of Celestia'. You never conquered Celestia! In fact, we signed a peace treaty with Celestia last week! Who wrote this book? It's a bunch of lies!"

"Who cares who wrote it? The important thing is, it's about me," I growled, masking the tremor in my voice with a husky snarl. Instead of driving her off in an angry huff, my tone made her freeze in place. Her eyes met with mine, and the longer she looked at me the warmer my stomach got (and the redder her face became). I was the first to break the stare down, returning my gaze to my book and scoffing, mostly for image. After I broke the gaze, she gasped and leaned back, taking most of her weight off of me. I felt a tiny measure of disappointment trickle in with my immense amount of relief, and I admitted with some reluctance that my hands were shaking.

"Uh—I—Laharl, you know, n-not everything is about you," Flonne interjected lamely, hands placed on either side of me on the coffin's edge, probably to steady herself. I wasn't really listening to her words. All I could think about was that her thumbs were brushing up against my arms in movements so tiny anyone else wouldn't have been able to detect them.

"Really? 'Cuz this book says nothing about you in it," I replied quickly, flipping to the back of the book and scanning it. After a few moments, I clucked my tongue and closed the book, setting it aside. "Nope. Not a thing. Guess you aren't as important a character as you think." I waited with bated breath, fighting to keep the grin off of my face as I heard her make small noises of indignation behind me. It was so easy to get the upper hand in an argument with Flonne.

"Wh- well, I _never_—Y-you look here, mister, you _know _I'm an important character!" She cried, surprising me by seizing either side of my head and turning my face skyward. Above me, her face was still crimson, but this time a flame of anger lit up her eyes, making her look very much like a demon. "Y-You wouldn't have gone to Celestia if it weren't for me!! You fought Seraph Lamington for m-me!!"

I shrugged, feigning innocence as I looked up at her. "I don't care what you say. The book has nothing about you in it. It says I went to Celestia in an act of pure evil, halfway in the middle of a cake baking contest the Seraph was holding. 'Says I killed Lamington right before he announced the winner."

I couldn't help myself; when her jaw dropped, I broke into a wide smile. Her eyes dropped to my mouth and back to my eyes, and the spark in the pit of my stomach suddenly turned into a roaring blaze. The heat in my abdomen was reflected in her cheeks, and I began moving my face toward hers. She appeared to be doing the same thing, and satisfied, I let my eyes close.

Big mistake.

Instead of her lips on mine, I got a palm to the face. Pushing off of my head, she launched herself into my coffin, grabbing at the book in my hands. "Gimme that thing! It's a bunch of lies and I'm going to sue whoever wrote it!!" She landed on my stomach, knocking all of the air out of my lungs. She tugged at the book futilely, but I kept my hold on the damned thing. "L-Let go, Laharl!"

"G-Get the hell out of m-my—Flonne, you're gonna kill me!! Get off!!" I pushed upward with my arms as I fought to keep the book in my possession, but she wouldn't budge and wouldn't stop pulling at the book. "D-Damn it—"

"I won't let go!! This book is slanderous and hurtful and downright insulting!! How you let this thing get published is beyond me!! I didn't know you could be so full of yourself, Laharl!! Spreading lies about your conquer of Celestia!! You should be ashamed of yourself!!"

I growled, quickly growing impatient with the situation. My breaths came in ragged gasps thanks to the demon sitting on my chest, and her weight was pushing my back into the harsh edge of the coffin. "It's not like I believe anything in this book!! D-Damn it, can't you take a friggin' joke?!"

In one swift movement she released the book and turned herself around in the coffin so that she was facing me. She glared at me, and I returned the expression with two times the ferocity, or so I hoped. My anger quickly turned to excitement/horror as she grinned devilishly, placing her hands on my chest. "So, you don't believe what this book says, Laharl?"

"No! I told you that, stupid! If you would've just listened to me instead of attacking me, then—"

With a sigh, she laid on me, nuzzling her face into my neck. I froze as I heard her mumble, "That's good. I'm sorry for reacting like I did, Laharl. I wasn't thinking clearly. I should have known you wouldn't believe the things that book said."

"You're d-damn right! I should have you kicked out for insulting my intelligence like that," I replied, taking a deep breath and wrapping my arms around her waist. I shuddered as she sighed, her breath tickling my collarbone. Well, this was a nice turn of events, I decided, leaning my head against hers. A compliant Flonne was much better than a bitchy one. The way she had been acting reminded me a little too much of Etna. I'd have to have a talk with her tomorrow, but for now…

"Hey, Laharl?"

"Mmmm?"

"You love me, right?"

"…"

"_Riiiiight_?"

"Okay, okay… Yes, I love you."

"And you'd still love me if I did something wrong, right?"

"… Where are you going with this?"

"Wellllll……"

"Flonne?"

"…"

"Hey, wait a sec—"

In an instant she was off of me, book in hand. "Okay, well, I'm off to go kill the author of this book. I'll be back in a little while, honey!! Don't wait up; I'm going to _really _make this guy regret writing such scandalous lies about Seraph Lamington."

I was almost tempted to get up and follow her, to try to keep a doomed author from dying that night, but the emphasis on her words kept me rooted in place. I watched her go, raising a hand when she turned to me before leaving and smiled. She looked pleasant, almost like she was going out for groceries instead of homicide. As the door closed behind her, I let out a low whistle and sat back in my coffin, listening as her quick footsteps go down the hallway. "Scary." Remembering that she had brought me food earlier, I reached out of my casket for it.

"You got that right, Prince," a female voice chirped from behind me, and suddenly Etna swooped down on the tray of food I was about to pick up. I growled and reached for it, and she lightly hopped away from me, sitting down about six feet away from me.

"Hey! Get your own, damn it! I didn't eat earlier!"

"That's your problem," she replied, munching on gremlin's leg, holding the tray away from me.

I snorted, sitting back. "Pig. Hey, were you in here the whole time?" When she nodded, I snarled, "What the hell?! Don't you have something better to do than spy on us?" She shook her head, and I, quickly getting annoyed with her responses yelled, "Stop stuffing your damned face and talk to me!!"

She sniffed, setting the tray aside. "Geez, sowwy, Pwince. What's wong wif you?"

"Ugh. Some people don't like their annoying vassals spying on them. By the way, didn't you write that book?"

She nodded, grinning widely as she swallowed her bite. "Yup. Used a pseudonym."

"You do know using a pseudonym means making up a name and writing under that name. You took an actual author's name, you know."

"Yeah, I know."

"You basically killed the guy. I guess you know that, too."

"Yup."

Sighing, I scooted down into my coffin, pulling the lid up over me. "Poor dude. Hey, get outta my room. I don't want to have to tell Flonne _you _actually wrote that book."

"Ooookay, goodnight, Prince!!"

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Laharl: Hey kids, this is your almighty Overlord Laharl speaking. Now, some of you may be into writing stories. Many of you may know what fanfiction is. Now, writing fanfiction is fine, but never, **ever** write a book. Books are evil, evil things. As you just saw, books get people killed. If you write a book, a crazy chick with a tail will come to your home at night and torture you until you promise never to put pen to paper again or until you die. Even if you promise never to write again, she may still kill you. So, heed my warning; don't write books.

Flonne: Laharl, what are you doing?! Are you talking about me?!

Laharl: N-No, I just—

Flonne: Shut up!! Listen, children, Laharl is a lying little demon! I would _never _kill you for writing books!! Books are wonderful things, doors to different worlds that you can become engrossed in when your own life is unsatisfactory!! It's only when you write things that are untrue that I may… Eherm… Get a little angry, but that still doesn't mean—

Etna: What are you guys doing…? Are you… Did you steal the episode preview from me?

Flonne: Oh my…

Laharl: E-Etna, this isn't what it looks like!

Etna: H-How could you guys? I-I… I'M GONNA KILL YOU TWO!!

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Tee-hee. Tell me what you think!!


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